Hero of the Federation?
by WillyDJ
Summary: Ciaphas Cain, Hero of the Imperium is sent to the United Federation of Planets. How does a survivor of a paranoid, totalitarian, grimdark future deal with an open, free, optimistic one? Complete story.
1. Chapter 1

It is with some trepidation that I release the next section of the so called 'Cain Archives'. While it sheds some light on some of the apparently nonsensical parts of Cain's memoirs the implications are just so, disturbing. Of course one still has to wonder why Cain wrote anything down. While most of his memoirs merely seek to deconstruct Cain the Legend these particular notes could do so much more. Nevertheless, the information revealed is, as ever valuable.  
Amberly Vail, Ordo Xenos

There are days, even on the front lines of some no-name planet when you can think it just cannot get better than this. The 571st were assigned to a scenic town that commanded vital trade routes on a southern continent of Alexia. Fortunately for us, a company of Righteous Fists Astartes had given the enemy such a pounding on the western continent that our part in the war was pretty much forgotten. The place was beautiful, the amasec agreeable and the card sharps were convinced of their own genius.

It was at a card game that I met the stranger. He was dressed as a functionary of the Administratum. He was well built unlike your typical Admin functionary but I had put that down to the local opportunities for sunshine and exercise. He was also remarkably good at cards. He introduced himself as Que, which may sound a bit odd but it's a big galaxy. Also when your own name is Ciaphas you have to suspend judgement on that score a bit. The evening wore on and most of the locals left when they ran out of money or the hope of ever getting it back. It was at this late hour that Que made his pitch.

"You fit in well to this place." said Que.

"Well, we are all here at the will of the Emperor until called elsewhere." I said, playing my modest hero routine. The stranger bristled.

"Not just the local environs, this galaxy. I'm impressed, the other humans here mainly just survive, but you. You have prospered. Prospered in this totalitarian grimdark madness." Que said.

It wasn't that late. I caught the 'other humans' remark and his praising my character. I'd heard that sort of thing before.  
"What are you?" I said, reflexively my right hand was drawing my laspistol from it's holster. Most daemons are too overly fond of their own cleverness to notice what would be obvious to a human. If I could just keep it talking, I had a chance.

"I offer you a challenge. You thrive in an environment of institutional paranoia and distrust. How would you fare in a universe of openness and benevolence? Where everyone works for the betterment of all. How long would it take you to become Emperor there." it said.

"Just long enough." I said and shot it between the eyes. Or would have were I not holding a croissant.

"Oh typical." said Que, "I had such high hopes for you." The daemon snapped his fingers and there was a bright flash...

I awoke in a most unusual room. My first impression was that of an Astartes cabin, bare, functional and spartan. But where a cabin for an Astartes would include a weapon rack, a robust stand for their armour and a small workbench for maintaining said artefacts this room only sported a bare desk, chair and a potted plant. My well honed senses told me I was aboard some sort of ship. A very peculiar one at that.

Every ship has a distinctive smell, whether it be oils, incense and centuries of body odours, human or otherwise. Even the vessels of the Necrons have their own distinctive smell. But this ship had none. It was truly a shock to the system, quite unnerving. It was also quiet. Even space hulks, with their constant straining as the various grav fields compete make a noise, other ships have their clanks and clunks as well as motivational messages being broadcast. This vessel had an almost inaudible deep bass hum.A quiet, non smelly ship. Not Imperial. And I ruled out virtually every species the Imperium deals with. Too spartan to be Elder or Necron and the absence of screams was also a clue. Orks and Nids were right out. The demiurge are too much like our own Cogboys and everything was human proportioned. So I ruled out the Tau as well. Some may wonder why I didn't just try the door. There were two reasons. The first is that in my experience it pays to never rush off half cocked if you wish to live to a ripe old age like yours truly here. The second was that I was dressed in my underpants.

Well, someone's underpants. While what I was to later learn is a Federation uniform showed off my physique in an excellent light the first impression of any being from a more fashionable universe is that they were underpants. Bright blue, very snug underpants which fitted to me my means of a seam I couldn't find.

"I need a drink" I said.

"What type of refreshment do you require." came the reply. It in a voice of a young woman that filled the room. There seemed to be no obvious speaker or vox apparatus anywhere. My right hand spasmed as it tried to draw the laspistol that wasn't there.

"Who's there."

"This is the ship's computer, crew interface subsystem, what type of  
refreshment do you require?" it said.

"Amasec, double, no ice."

"Unfamiliar with 'amasec', your vocabulary suggests it is alcohol you wish to imbibe. Why not try the bar at Ten-Forward. If you are unfamiliar with the way I can guide you. Just follow the lights."

"I, I'll do that.". I headed for the door. Underpants or not I really needed a drink.

Fortunately, it appeared that it was either 'underpants day or this is how people dressed on this ship. Red underpants, blue underpants, yellow underpants. These colours seemed to dominate with a few oddities here and there. The corridor was neat and clean and the people! I did not at that time know I was on the Federation's poster child which does skew the average a bit but every man and woman who passed me was healthy, good looking, physically fit and without prosthesis of any kind. It was then I realised I was looking at a uniform, just one with a very strange purpose.

The uniform of say, an Imperial Guardsman is designed to render the individual anonymous although they never really succeeded with Jurgen. They become one with the greater whole, part of the Hammer of the Emperor and all that. Of course as a Commissar I was required to look beyond the uniform to the man or woman underneath. And of course the uniform is part of the equipment of a soldier. It and the guardsman inside defends the Imperium and so is designed towards doing just that. The uniforms of the Federation were emphatically not, but still conveyed a psychological message every bit as powerful as that of the Guards'.

Some lights on the wall directed me towards the bar. Entering gave me quite a start. An entire section of wall was given over to a window, through which small bright objects could be seen streaking past. After a brief moment of terror I realised that everyone else was behaving calmly. So I tried my nonchalant best to walk in and ignore the gaping hole in reality through which anything could casually stroll.

It is a testament to the fact I was still expecting an incursion of squamous horrors from the nethermost recesses of the warp that I practically ignored that not everyone in the bar was human. Most of them were simply abhuman in nature and not any stranger than you'ld see on a planet with a relaxed eugenics policy. The creature that intercepted me enroute to the bar however was anything but.

It was a three metre long grey monstrosity encased in a yellow exoskeleton of cybernetics that would satisfy any cogboy, it floated about a metre and a half above the floor and it's eyes and beak gave the impression of a perpetual smile.

"Greetings counsellor, I would like your help with a small personal matter." it said through some sort of vox unit too small for me to see.

"But of course, always willing to help." I said dropping into my familiar 'cares for the troops' routine. A prickling on my hands warned me just as I was about to correct my title and so I kept quiet on that. Hopefully this creature would inadvertently reveal more if I just played along.

"My name is Leiutenant Kaa, Engineering. I have a small, um, gambling problem." Kaa said.

"Go on." I said. I quickly glanced about. Along with no panic regarding the window, no-one gave this mechanical giant a second look. So it was normal, by the bizarre standards of this place. Also it had a 'gambling problem' which told me a lot that was finally relieving. No matter how, strange, outlandish and damn dangerous this place was it was filled with people just like the ones I dealt with back home. The poor saps.

Kaa smiled, but then, the damn creature was always smiling "Thank you, you see you Federation types don't give us honest Caladians much to gamble with so mostly when we play cards we have to gamble shifts or personal secrets." Kaa said.

"What about money?" I said, Kaa just smiled so I continued, "You know, credits? Thrones? Thalers? Solidii?"

"You know about real money!" said Kaa. It then launched into fondly reminiscing about the options available when one has money.

So I now had a name, which meant nothing really. I've personally been to a dozen 'Federations' in the Imperium. That it didn't use money was odder. There is the occasional feral world out there where the local rulers just cant grasp the idea. However, since their tithe consists of 'as many warm bods you can shove onto the transports' no one really cares. But a modern ship-building society? I was at a loss, really.

Kaa rattled on, believing as many had that they had at last found a kindred spirit. Unlike other confidences there seemed almost no reserves or guardedness about him as he casually revealed secret after secret that would of seen him shot back home. I learned an awful lot in the next ten minutes or so and all that was required of me were a few, "Hmms", "Do tells", 'Go on." and the ever useful "Really?".

"And the matter of your gambling debts." I said at last, before I was swamped with information.

"Oh yes, well I'm owed a few markers now and I'll like to collect. A lot of those shifts involve warp field calibration and require EVA work. Ensign Anderson owes me the most and I'ld like some help to get him to own up."

"Well, I can definitely see what I can do." I said, "Ensign Anderson, also in Engineering?"

"That's him." said Kaa. "You counsellor types are actually ok."

"Well, we all serve our part." I said, satisfied Kaa floated off.

I then ordered some Amasec from what appeared to be a Tallarn fashionista with little more than a raised eyebrow and found a table to digest what I had learned.

I was on the Starship Enterprise which put me in mind of a Free Trader except Kaa had said it was a vessel of the United Federation of Planets, whatever that was. What was stranger is that the ship, Federation and even Kaa himself ultimately came from Holy Terra or simply 'Earth' to hear Kas put it. Well the Enterprise had been built at Mars which was a bit of a relief but the rest was just boggling.

So there I was not so calmly taking all this in when I heard the voice I wss already growing to dislike.

"So, how's it all going? Emperor yet?" said Que.

The daemon looked at what I was drinking. "How did you get that here? Garcon!"

The barkeep approached, from the look of her face she wasn't in the mood to serve us anything. Que however hadn't noticed this.

"Some of your finest amasec, my dear man." said Que.

The barkeep responded by pouring a decanter of water over the daemon. Que rose and confronted his tormenter.

"You." said Que.

"You." said the barkeep.

"Why is it that I cannot get a decent drink in the multiverse without you showing up." said Que.

"Why don't you just go back home?" said the barkeep "Or would you like to experience another banishing?"

"It won't work this time." said Q. Two people entered the bar. By their looks they were not happy to see the daemon either.

"What won't work Que?" said their leader, a tall, older man in a red uniform similar to that worn by Que. "And get off my ship."

"I am hurt mon capitan. Here I am, cast out, bereft in a hostile and uncaring, godless universe. I turn to those I would count my friends and all I recieve are harsh, unpitying stares." said Que.

"Did the rest of the Que kick you out?" said another of the newcomers, another tall handsome man in a red uniform.

"That they did Riker, tell me, if you had taken up my offer would you have done the same."

"In a heartbeat." said Riker.

"Now that wounds me. I am so wounded I almost forget my reason for coming here." Que said.

"Which is?" said the captain.

"Turn back from this path on which you tread." said Que. "Really Jean Luc, as a friend, I really mean it."

"We are investigating why our colonies near the Romulan border have gone silent." said Jean Luc.

"No! You are simply not ready. Accept it as, as, as an act of God. Move on." said Que.

"We have met so called 'Gods' before and found them wanting. And if it's the Romulans..." said Jean Luc.

"It's not the blasted Romulans or those pathetic beings who masqueraded as your gods. This is something beyond your conception. Face these beings now and your precious Federation will react to them in the same way as a sentence does to a full stop." said Que.

"You can't scare us Q. Now please, go away." said Jean Luc.

"Oh very well, but don't say I didn't warn you or try to help." said Que, who then vanished.

"What if he's right?" said Riker.

"Well number 1, we'll just have to be ready. But let's be cautious. Seperate the hulls, the Saucer can head back to Starbase 10. Get Watson to pilot her back. I want you here." said Jean Luc.

"I'll see to it." said Riker, who then departed.

Jean Luc then sat down and looked me in the eye. "I'm Captain Jean Luc Picard, commander of this vessel. Who the devil are you?" he said.

I gave this 'Captain' my best Commissarial look in return. "I am Commissar Ciaphas Cain, currently attached to His Divine Majesty's 597th Guards Regiment of Valhalla." I said. Picard's non-reaction to my name meant I was very much off the beaten track.

"Valhalla." said Picard, "Valhalla is a Federation World, colonised by humans. But it's ruled by a democratically elected council, not some monarch with a bizarre sense of the divine right of kings."

"The Regiment comes from Valhalla, His Divine Majesty, the God Emperor of Mankind rules all of the Galaxy from Holy Terra and has done so for the last ten thousand years." I said.

"Ten thousand years ago mankind was developing agriculture on Earth. When and where are you from?" said Picard.

"A long, long way from here." I said ruefully.

It was about an hour later. Picard had called a conference with his department heads. They were a strange lot but human for the most part. The only exception was the hulking monster named Worf who I initially took to be some sort of ork, if a rather articulate one. I recounted my tale as I understood it to somewhat disbelieving stares. They apparently did not think Que was daemon but rather 'a highly advanced lifeform with powerful technical and psychic abilities residing in a higher dimension' which pretty much matched every description of fiends I had heard of. At the end of my tale they all looked at the young woman named Troi whose uniform was cut to reveal a generous amount of cleavage.

"I, I cant tell." Troi said. "His thoughts are like clear fish in a bright pool."

"He's an habitual liar you mean." said Worf, which is an unfair way to say it, "Captain, this is obviously a trick of Que's. I reccomend we put him in the brig."

"I would like to say I am much a victim of Que as you are." I said.

"So it would appear." said Data, an unusually pale human. "The existence of alternative universes has been observed multiple times. This man here is from one very unlike ours. Anything he says is likely to sound strange to us."

"As if he came from a universe populated by elves and goblins." said Riker.

"Elder and Orks." I said correcting him. They all stared at me again.

"Well, Mr Cain, you certainly qualify under contact with new civilisations. And if Que put you here as 'another test' we are not to be rid of you until he thinks we've passed." said Picard. "But we will need to know what you can do. What is a 'commissar' anyway?"

"I believe the term comes from Earth's Wars of Ideology. A commissar was entrusted with ensuring the troops were politically correct in thought and deed. They also manned machinegun emplacements located behind the line of advance. They would fire on their own troops if they did not advance on the enemy quickly enough." said Data.

I hoped my slack jawed expression conveyed my own horror at this revelation. Alright, there are some Commissars I've known who would jump at the idea. Well, they would if they hadn't all died in 'glorious combat' miles from the front lines.

"The term may of changed over time.", I said. "The Imperium's commissars are concerned with maintaining morale in a unit and also deal with minor infractions of discipline as well as any personal problems a trooper may have." I decided to leave out the bit about summary executions as I felt it wouldn't help. I plunged on. "For example did you know that Lieutenant Kaa is owed several EVA shifts by Ensign Anderson due to cards and that Anderson won't pay up."

"Bloody dolphins!" said the Chief engineer who strangely sported only one visible augment.

"What is this atavistic obsession with gambling?" said Picard. His subordinates chose this moment to look somewhat uncomfortable. I wondered what the senior ranks played for in this strange place with no money and how I could join.

"The Caladians are technically and scientifically advanced but do not entirely embrace our social norms." said Troi. "They say they like to remember when they were just playful animals.", she smiled, "I'll have a word with them."

"It would seem you do have some useful skills. Any others?" said Picard.

"I'm considered a fair shot and I have some skill with a chainsword." I said.

At this Worf perked up. "Captain, I shall like to evaluate this person's combat skills, personally." he said.


	2. Chapter 2

Worf led me to a room that was bare even by the standards of the Federation.

"This is a Holodeck." said Worf. And that really told you all about Worf. Despite, as I learned later he was brought up by humans he had readily adopted the traditions of the Klingon Empire. Mainly because the Federation is so weird. A Klingon views everything in terms of conflict, every stranger is an enemy of one sort or another. He would use words sparsely as if they needed to be conserved, like ammunition. Worf's attitude was one of the things that most reminded me of home which is odd considering he was an alien. At my blank look Worf decided to elaborate.

"It is a training simulator, it produces realistic but non-lethal environments and enemies to hone your abilities. Of course, some insist on just playing in it." he said. He then rattled off some unpronounceable phrase and the room, changed. I was now standing in a dimly lit room decorated with fighting trees and all manner of weapons on the walls.

"Describe this 'chainsword' to me." said Worf "Is it a blade at the end of a chain or a sword with rotaing blades?" I indicated the latter and Worf went to a wall and pulled down an oversized eviscerator. "This is a ceremonial blade for the Guardians of the Priest-Kings of Kor. Gorn Pratakh caste. Is your weapon similar?"

"A bit smaller I think." I said. Worf barked several more commands and a smaller version appeared. I made several suggestions and the weapon gradually came to resemble what I was familiar with. Worf then ordered a slightly larger version for himself, and then gave another order.

Six humans appeared dressed in yellow and carrying vox units. Worf yelled something and leapt into the middle of them. There was a violent explosion of gore, limbs and other assorted body parts. Soon only Worf was left standing wearing a grin I've seen on several cadets after their first experience with a chainsword. The bodies and extra bits vanished.

"I want one." Worf said. "I wonder if it will work outside."

"They work." I said.

Worf gave another command. "I've set the room to deliver a light stun should we hit one another. Now, defend yourself." Worf then leapt at me yelling and delivering a classic overhead slash like every other ork in the galaxy. He however somehow changed this midway to a series of three quick blows. I managed to parry the first two and was lightly touched on my sword arm. It dealt a massive jolt, nearly dropping my own weapon.

"That's light stun?" I said.

"For a Klingon, ready?." Worf said.

I shook off the stun effects, "Ready." I said, "Not an ork." I said quietly. It all went a lot better after that. Worf was a monster, with superior strength, reach and speed but nothing like an Elder or Chaotic Astartes. He was still a nasty opponent you wouldn't want to meet on the wrong side of a battle though.  
"You fight well." Worf said after we had finished.  
"I get some time to practice back home. From time to time." I said.

"You still speak like a Federation Diplomat, all Klingons know them to be chronic liars and we have learned the signs."

"Which are?"

"For a start, the lips move." Worf said and then howled, it took me a while to learn that the alien was laughing.

"So how about a laspistol then?" I said.

"An actual laser weapon?" said Worf. I described the weapon as best I could while Worf nodded and harrumphed. "So, an energy pistol then." he said. He again gave some commands and a rack of dangerous looking energy weapons appeared. I picked the one that most resembled my laspistol from home.

"Interesting, energy guns are power hogs. This weapon is good for only eight high power shots and then you'd need a new power cell."

"Laspistols are better than that." I said.

"Hmm, well perhaps we could learn something of your power generation methods. Do you know how you weapons are powered?"

I shook my head. "I'm not a cogboy, um mechanic, engineer." I said. Again something told me the word 'techpriest' would be poorly regarded in this strange world.

"Then you'll just have to stick with phasers like the rest of us." he said. It was then we were interrupted.

"Hull Separation in 10 minutes, all civillians to the saucer section, all department heads to the Battle Bridge, repeat Hull Separation in 10 minutes." said a voice on the ship's vox.

"That's it. We better get going. We can replicate these weapons better in engineering as well." said Worf.

* * *

Almost ten minutes later we made it to an oval beige room festooned with strange devices and instruments. Several crew members in various colours poured over the instruments and made adjustments. The captain and most of the department heads were in the more spacious area.

"What is that thing at your hip Lieutenant?" said Picard.

"Mr Cain calls it a chainsword, sir. It is a brutal, gratuitous weapon from a very dangerous age." said Worf. "I like this learning about new cultures."

"Very well, Lieutenant, carry on." said Captain Picard.

"Hull Separation commencing." said Data. On the view screen we saw an image of the saucer shaped portion of the hull move away from us.

"Commander Watson." said Picard "Proceed to Starbase 10 and await our return."

"Yes captain" came the reply. "Have fun out there captain." The saucer moved off.

"Saucer section is heading in system sir. It will reach Starbase 10 in eight hours and 27 minutes." said Data.

"Very well Data, set us a course for our nearest colony near the neutral zone." said Picard.

"Already plotted. Going to Warp now. Estimating arrival in three hours." said Data.

"Very good. Helm, maintain course. Command crew meet me for a conference in 10 minutes, main topic will be the Romulans. Mr Cain, Que brought you to us for a reason. it may be that your attendance is required as well." said Picard.

* * *

If there is one commonality of organisations anywhere is that they like to be seen to be organised. To that part, whether they be Guardsmen, Cogboys, Eldar or Cylons they will have meetings to endlessly discuss and deliberate about the impending mayhem. I imagine that even the Tyranids do this, although the thought of a Synapse creature peering over a report from the assembled Genestealers, Gaunts and Canifexs is a boggling one. I believe that it is the Starfleet of the Federation of Planets that has elevated the staff meeting to an art form and Captain Picard was a virtuoso conductor of these performances. Seen from the outside, I imagine they could be quite beautiful to a certain, bizarre and thoroughly alien mind.

It had been 90 minutes and even though I was a veteran of General Zyvan's meetings, I was already feeling wrung out.

"Is there any tanna?" I asked as the command crew admitted they knew damn all about a neighbour and regular enemy of theirs.

"Tanna?" said Riker.

"I believe it to be a reference to 'tea' Commander." said Data. I nodded. "What variety of tea? Andorian South, Assam, Bohou, Dajeeling, Earl Grey,..." Data continued.

"Guardboot will be fine." I said. The pale savant looked worried.

"I am not aware of that variety." he said.

"I think I know." said Picard. He walked over to a replicator station and ordered two teas. He too one for himself and offered me the other. "I think this will be similar." The tea turned out to oddly similar, but just different enough to remind me that I was trapped in an alien universe at the whim of a mercurial daemon.

"Good enough." I said, choking.

"Good, now back to business. What do we know historically about the Romulans?" said Picard

"Well captain, towards the end of the last encounters the Romulans were using old klingon ships. This was when the Empire was upgrading to the predecessors of their current designs. They've not been good ship builders and instead have always relied on their cloaking devices." said Geordi.

"Go on." said Captain Picard.

"Well, if they stick with what we've seen over the last two centuries they'll have a ship with a state of the art cloaking device and some sort of secret weapon built around what we would consider an outdated hull design." said Geordi'

"You sure?" said Riker

"I can only guess commander. But they were still using fission bombs 50 years ago. It's a bit like Klingons and their batleths. Uh, no offence Worf." said Geordi. Worf of course did not.

"Only because the Federation ignores the 15 Stagk rule." he said.

"15 Stag? How long is one of them?" I asked. Worf held his hands apart. I made a small calculation. "Oh, the seven metre rule."

"What are you two talking about?" said Captain Picard.

"The distance an armed opponent can close before you can draw your weapon and shoot him." I said. "It's a bit more for long weapons and varies with xenos, um aliens." Worf murmured agreement. "And of course there's teleporters which changes the equation totally. Was the batleth that extra bladed staff weapon in the training room?" I said. Worf nodded.

"What's the point?" said Captain Picard.

"Primitive weapons can still kill you." I said. "I'd advise being cautious." I sipped my tea.

"I suppose you would have us all carrying these chainswords of yours." said Captain Picard.

"From what I've seen of your production and training facilities that may not be a bad idea." I said.

"And I suppose body armour, phaser rifles and photon grendes as well. Should we fabricate some Sabre-tanks for support when we get to our colonies." said Picard.

"We'll if you can do all that then. yes. Be prepared." I said.

"You can come out now Que, we're on to your little game." said Captain Picard. There was a brief pause as everyone waited for the daemon to appear, I found myself thumbing my palm. Que failed to appear.

"I know you can still hear us Que. Frankly, this latest test is simply pathetic. We are not going to strap on weapons and armour and revert at the urging of this cross dimensional barbarian of yours. We are explorers and diplomats first and foremost. We are not savages and do not fall back on those ways just because it makes us feel a little more secure. As one of our philosophers said 'They that can give up essential liberty to purchase a little temporary safety, deserve neither liberty nor safety.' We are not giving up who we are on the basis of threats and phantoms. We will face the universe as we are, resolute, willing, curious and unafraid." said Picard.

There was a slow clapping. Que was reclining on the windowsill. His clapping stopped as everyone turned towards him. "Oh very well done mon capitan. Let's take it to the judges shall we?" the daemon snapped his fingers and a human, an eldar and a figure shrouded in darkness appeared. They all held up two cards. "Looks like 9.9 from the humans, 9.8 from the vulcans and oh dear, 1.3 from the nameless terrors you've yet to encounter. Not a very good showing at all." Que snapped his fingers again and the trio vanished.

"Enough of these games Que." said Picard "We are not falling for your carnival tricks and we shall meet the universe on our terms."

"Oh but the game is just beginning, the stage is set, the players are all ready for their big entrances and here you are in your pajamas." said Que.

"You don't get it do you Que. You don't scare us. We are not afraid." said Picard. Que leaned close to Picard until they were almost touching face to face.

"Oh, but you will be. You will be." Que said and then vanished in a flash of light.

* * *

The meeting broke up soon after that, all of them determined to prove their Captain right to this strange daemon. I waited by Worf since the large alien didn't regard me like an unpleasant surprise from the regimental mascot.

"Who is the navigator for this ship?" I asked after a few boring minutes of watching stars streak by.

"That would be Ms Berrin." said Worf indicating a blue skinned but otherwise attractive humanoid sitting beside Data at a large terminal. "She is currently navigating the ship." At the mention of her name the woman turned and smiled before returning her attention to her devices. "Of course Ms Berrin is present should some emergancy arise. The ship is navigating itself." said Worf.

Keep calm, I thought, alien universe, they do things differently here. "The ship is an artificial intelligence?" I said.

"Oh no, not at all." said Data, "The computers of Federation Starships are only parasientient, they are capable of making limited decisions and predictions, Unlike myself."

"You're an android?" I said

"Yes, correct I was manufactured by Dr Soong..." began Data.

"Data, he doesn't need to know everything." said Riker.

Remain calm, breathe. they do things differently here, presumably this is normal. I still loosened the clasp on my chain sword. Data got up and walked towards me,

"I apologise for not informing you sooner." It extended a hand. "I hope we can be friends."

Low on my 'things to do list' is befriend any soulless mechanical monstrosities lurching about. On the other hand everyone was now looking at me and it at least had better posture than most cybernetic horrors. I shook the things hand rather than be seen to be afraid of something they took for granted. "I hope we can be friends too." I said.

"Approaching Outpost Delta Zero Five." said Ms Berrin.

"Sensors indicate, no Federation presence." said Data. "No life-signs, no power signatures, no communicators, no structures or vehicles."

"No signs of weapons use." said Worf, "It's like a giant hand just scooped them up."

"Could it of been a natural phenomena?" said Picard.

"We would of detected any such phenomena ourselves Captain." said Data,

The Enterprise and it's crew stayed near their outpost for three hours. Everywhere there had been people, habitats or machines there was now nothing except large holes if they were on a planet's surface. My palms began to itch. I knew of only one terror that was so systematic and thorough. In time however they decided to investigate the next world, a colony on the habitable Tomed-9.

Tomed-9 was a pleasant life bearing world with the same big holes in the ground wherever the Federation had been. Their scanners however detected a lone human life form at one of the smaller scars. They used their teleporter to retrieve him and move him to their medicae. His name was Carl M'Buli. He had been out of the base camp collecting mineral samples. He had seen a green flash in the sky and had hid. When he returned the base was scooped out like all the others. That had been five days ago. He was starving , dehydrated and largely in need of rest.

"Why him?" said Picard later in the conference room. "There were 30,000 people on Tomed-9 and we only find one survivor."

"He was only a few hundred metres from the camp." said Riker. "Any vessel able to do what we've seen should of been able to detect him."

"What was he doing." I asked.

"Collecting rocks." said Riker.

"What do you do that with?" I asked.

"Same thing everyone's used for centuries. Hammer, brush, trowel..." said Geordie the Enginseer. "Oh. He was missed because the most advanced tool he had on him was a lever."

"What does that mean?" said Picard.

Unfortunately no-one had any answers.

* * *

It was the next ship day. Extensive scans had failed to turn up any other survivors or even evidence that people had once lived here. The bunk I had slept in had been hard, unyielding and reminiscent of the barracks of my schola, at least for the first few years. Despite the looks some of the crew gave me I found a place by Worf, who was still wearing his chainsword.

"What are we doing today?" I asked.

"Scanning." said Worf, as if that said everything.

I waited while the crew went about their tasks. After an hour the activity picked up a little.

"Captain, I am detecting a large warp trace. It's heading our way." said Worf.

"Shields up." said Riker.

'I cannot get an accurate lock on it. Most likely the ship is cloaked." said Data.

"Do your best gentlemen let's see who they are." said Picard.

A few seconds passed as the crew hit buttons and looked at displays, It was strange to see such technical operations without the usual prayers, benedictions, oils and calls to repentance. It was probably because their machine spirits were as pliable and cooperative as them.

"Getting a lock now." said Data "Will put image onscreen."

"I strongly suggest we fire now, no doubt they are Romulan's." said Worf.

"We will not make an unprovoked attack, they have done nothing hostile yet." said Picard.

"Captain, they have trespassed across the neutral zone and are moving towards us under cloak. Those are hostile actions, were this a Klingon Vessel we..." said Worf.

"But this is a Federation Vessel, Mr Worf. We shall wait and see." said Picard,

"I have an image now." said Data. Everyone looked at the screen. A green ship, clearly of xenos origin with strange curves and weird bulges appeared.

"What a beauty." said Geordi. It was then that the picture vanished.

"Lock lost captain." said Data, "Searching subspace bands, ion emissions, heat signatures, radiations. Nothing Captain, it is like they're not there."

"See if you can find them again." said Picard "What do you think number one?"

"I think they're demonstrating just how good their cloak is." said Riker. "It also looks like they've been busy."

"That they have." said Geordi.

"It is well armed. Torpedo launcher, disruptor banks and several supporting beam arrays." said Worf.

"That'll take a lot of power. I'ld like a look at their main engine." said Geordi.

"Ship is decloaking again, range 500 m directly forwards." said Data soullessly. Everyone else decided to take a step backwards or lean away as the screen showed what was directly ahead of us. The ship looked massive but so does a gretchin if he's right in your face.

"They're trying to intimidate us." said Riker.

"Well, let's show them we are not afraid. Open hailing frequencies." said Picard.

"Hailing frequencies open." said Worf who sounded like he'd rather open negotiations with a volley from the ships guns.

"This is Captain Jean luc Picard of the USS Enterprise." said Picard.

"This is Captain Tebok of the Romulan Star Empire." came a voice.

"You have crossed over the neutral zone into Federation territory. We would like to know why." said Picard.

"It was needed." said Tebok.

"It could be viewed as an act of aggression." said Picard.

"It is not, else you would not be here. We are investigating the attacks on our colonies and outposts near the border." said Tebok.

"We are here for that reason as well." said Picard.

"Yes. The destruction is too wide ranging and complete to of been done by you." said Tebok.

"Do you know who is responsible?" said Picard.

There was a long pause.

"This like dealing with eldar. They're too arrogant to admit we can help them or that they know nothing." I said.

"Hmm, good point. Captain Tebok, I have a proposal." said Picard.

"An alliance?" Tebok managed to give the impression that he had just stepped in something unpleasant.

"Nothing so grandiose. I merely suggest sharing what we have both learned of this matter. For a start the attackers ignored a civilian with no notable technology on his person. It may be they are only interested in our artifacts and not our people." said Picard

"I will think on this. Because you have acted rationally we shall let you live. For now. But be warned. We shall be back!" said Tebok. The vox cut off.

"Romulan vessel leaving." said Worf "Shall we give chase sir."

"No Mr Worf. We have other more pressing matters. Let's continue looking for this unknown attacker." said Picard.

"They didn't tell us anything." said Riker

"Yes, but they didn't open fire either. Given our experience of Romulans that's practically magnanimous. And they may yet reciprocate." said Picard

The crew resumed their duties searching for the unknown enemy. Towards the end of the shift Riker approached me.

"So, are you any good at cards." he said..

"I've played a few games, from time to time." I said.


	3. Chapter 3

Over the next few days I settled into a routine as the crew searched for any trace of the enemy. I may of been fooled into thinking I was on an unusually clean Imperial ship. But then I would run into a xeno like Kaa, Worf or H'kriss (a sientient rock) and I would be brought back to the strange, unfamiliar reality that was the 24th Century.

Amazingly, the ship recieved a message from Tebok on the second day detailing where, in general terms they would be searching on their side of the border and Picard said that we would search likewise on the Federation side. The search continued and according to the maps was extending beyond the territory of both the Federation and Romulans.

On the fifth day the crew detected trace of the quarry's passage. As explained in something like high-cogboy space travel leaves a 'wake' in normal space which disapates over time. The wake is bigger for big ships and fast ships. From what they were saying the ship we were after was both very big and very fast. It was also headed straight for a star system from which something called 'radio' signals were coming from.

"How long before it reaches the system?" said Picard.

"The unknown object will be insystem in three days, 22 hours, 15 minutes..." said Data, who after looking at everybody changed to "Almost four days sir."

"How soon can we get there?" said Picard.

"At maximum safe cruising speed we can be there in two days." said Data.

"Make it so." said Picard. "Worf, send a message to Tebok."

"Yes, sir. Transmitting now, sir." said Worf "Captain, I do not see why..."

"I know Mr Worf, objection noted." said Picard

It did not take long to recieve a reply.

"Message from the Romulans, sir." said Worf "Playing now."

"We acknowledge your advice Enterprise, be advised we have assets ready to engage this threat. You are permitted to observe so that you realise the full power of the Romulan Star Empire." came Tebok's voice.

"Sir, I am picking up three warp traces also converging on our destination, they will be there before us by a matter of four hours." said Data.

"Do you know anything about this system?" asked Picard.

"I'm not sure, where would it be in my time?" I asked.

Picard had Data play with the map system and had it diplayed on the main screen. It looked like almost every other starmap ever shown to me. However, my palms began to itch.

"What is it's coordinates relative to Holy, um Earth." I said.

The numbers changed and for a brief instant I saw the map as it was from my own reality. The numbers displayed were ones now burned into my brain. "I've been there, uh, will be there, anyway I know it." I said.

"Yes?" said Picard.

"That system has a planet known to the Imperium as Simia Orichalcae. It is a resting place of a terrible evil. A machine race we call the Necrons. Whatever you do Captain, do not wake them up."

* * *

Captain's Log : Stardate 41904.2.

We continue our pursuit of the unknown entities responsible for the destruction of several colonies and outposts near the Neutral zone with the Romulans. The Romulans have suffered similar attacks. For the moment we are assisting one another in hunting these attackers. I find it heartening that after a fifty year silence our first encounter with the Romulans has been so promising.

The motives of the unknown attackers is less so. Why? Was it to provoke a war between the Federation and Romulans? Or something as careless as a giant filter feeder trawling up everything in it's path? Geordi believes it attacked our tools and devices and that our people were merely in the way. But that suggests a callousness I'm unwilling to ascribe to another without further proof. It is true that our tools are as much a part of us as any other aspect of our culture. But to be so far along a path which merges man and machine that you are unaware of the distinction any more. What would drive a species to such madness? I shudder to contemplate.

And then there is our new passenger. The Q entity has saddled us with Commissar Ciaphas Cain. He claims to be from a distant future in which a galaxy spanning human empire is constantly beset by enemies within and without. He acts as if his every word and action is being monitored and judged. His title is synonymous with words like 'thought police', 'political officer' and other anachronisms of the Age of Ideology. This man is likely an enforcer in a vicious totalitarian state and yet he is so damned likable. He is capable of charming and ingratiating himself with everyone he meets. Riker, Worf, Geordi and Troi all speak freely with a man who comes from a society so at odds with our own as to be our opposite.

And we are headed to the system which Cain fears above all else. A man who claims to fight horrors beyond imagining on a daily basis is terrified of this machine race he calls 'Necrons'. His description of them is the very thing of nightmares that I would find utterly preposterous if it were not Troi's insistence that the level of primal terror Cain exhibits simply cannot be faked. Whatever they are these 'necrons' are very real to Cain.

I have decided to bring Cain along when we investigate the planet. I intend to show him that, in our galaxy at least, investigation and discovery can turn monsters into something understood and not to be feared.

* * *

After two more days we were finally within 'sensor range' of our quarry. Data and Geordi may of been from another universe but spoke perfect cogboy as they turned their auspexs towards the target. The rest of us just had to wait until they said something in sensible Gothic, or whatever it was being spoken here.

"Getting preliminary data now Captain." said Geordi who then played with his auspex desk some more "That can't be right. Data, can you verify these figures."

"They are correct Geordi. Captain, the alien vessel is a diffuse cuboid structure approximating three kilometres to a side. There are no discernable structures and no single power source."

"A First Federation ship?" said Riker.

"It is unlike the ships of the First Federation, both geometrically and structurally. The alien vessel is cuboid and there are 57 other compositional variences." said Data who then began in high cogboy to detail the differences.  
"A simple no would do." said Riker.

"Oh. No then. It is not a vessel of the First Federation." said Data.

"Whoever it is they've stopped. Just at the borders of the Simia system." said Geordi. I twitched at the mention of the name the crew had given this system.

"Warp traces Captain. Similar to the Romulan vessel. I count, two, no three traces. Converging on the alien vessel." said Data.

"No detection of deflector shields. It's just sitting there helpless." said Geordi.

"It's luring them in like a Gra'tu hunting Targ." said Worf.

"I think you're right. Open hailing frequencies to the Romulans. Warn them they are going into a trap." said Picard.

"Opening hailing frequencies now. Sir." said Worf.

"Romulan vessels, this is the Enterprise. We believe you are being lured into a trap. Abort your attack." said Picard.

There was no reply. We all watched the tactical information on the ships main screen as relayed from the auspex.

"Romulans decloaking sir, they're firing on the Alien. Romulans cloaking again." said Data.

On the screen came indications of weapons fire, it's type, intensity and what it did to the alien vessel.

"Look at that firepower. I'ld love to get a look at those ships sir." said Geordi as the data resolved itself.

"They're certainly impressive. What's the status of the alien?" said Picard.

"No change Captain. Unable to assess damage at this range." said Data.

Abruptly the screen display changed as various symbols appended itself to the marker for the alien.

"That doesn't look damaged to me." said Riker.

"No sir. Alien vessel is shielding itself." said Data.

"And it's powering up something." said Geordi.

"Alien is moving." said Data.

Another icon appeared briefly on the screen, with various glyphs attached. Then another. There was a small pause and a third icon appeared.

"Is that what I think it is?" said Picard.

"I'm afraid so Captain, The alien fired three times, each time hitting and destroying a cloaked Romulan sir." said Data.

The ships vox beeped.

"Typical Federation cowardice. Watch and learn how your elders and betters deal with threats." came the now dead captain's reply. It was immediately replaced by a new message, one we were going to get used to.

"We are the Borg. Your biological and technological distinctiveness will be added to our own. Resistance is futile." came a voice. It was, harsh, cold, emotionless. Even a high Magos manages to keep a little life in their artificial voices. This voice had none whatsoever. I found myself making the sign of the Aquila and it seemed the temperature dropped. Only Data seemed unaffected.

"Alien is resuming course towards the planet." he said.

"Follow it." said Picard. The ship began moving again towards Simia.

"Approaching light event of battle." said Data.

"Show us." said Picard.

Again, we watched the brief battle between the Borg and Romulans. The alien ship which identified itself as Borg was a cube against which the Romulan cruisers appeared as small toys. They briefy appeared, darted towards the cube and unleashed a pyrotechnic display of firepower before disappearing again. In all this the cube did not react until it suddenly erected some sort of energy shield and the weapon fired three times, each time striking and destroying one of the invisible ships. The cube paused to sweep the area clean of debris and then headed for the planet.

Again we heard the chilling message, this time as a radio signal.

But I only paid attention to the sickly green glow that emanated from the cube and the brief green flashes as it's weapons fired. It was all so similar, so reminiscent of the Necrons except for one thing. To my knowledge, no Necron has ever said anything.

"Suddenly there was a flash of light, and a quantity of luminous greenish smoke came out of the pit in three distinct puffs, which drove up, one after the other, straight into the still air." came the voice of Que who was reclining on a chair reading an old, slim book with an orange cover. The title read 'The War of the Worlds'.  
"Not interrupting you am I?" the daemon continued, "This is my favourite bit, when the humans learn that they are not the Lords and Masters of all they survey."

"We are well aware of Mr Well's cautionary tales. They are on the reading list at Starfleet Academy." said Picard.

Que closed the book "Well you know it, then. Doubtless you could give me one of your oh so stirring speeches on the the perils of colonialism, the hubris of manifest destiny and why the prime directive is such a jolly fine thing. But he hasn't even heard of it." Que pointed at me and then threw me the book which I caught. It was rather slim.

"Read up, Commissar. It may give you some insight in what's about to happen."

"This is nothing like War of the Worlds. The Romulans attacked the alien ship, these Borg. A more peaceful approach may have them react differently." said Picard.

"React differently? These are the Borg Picard. You say you are willing, well so are they. You say you are resolute, they are bent to one purpose. You say you are unafraid. They know no fear and are fear incarnate. Entire civilisations will set you on fire if you so much think of inventing an electrical device, lest it attract the Borg."

"So are these Borg Necrons or not." I asked.

"Oh no, is that what you've been jumping at? Come now, this should be a holiday for you away from all the nasty things that go bump in the night in your universe." said Que.

"But that's Simia Orichalcae." I said pointing to the planet now on screen.

"Hmm, yes. I guess you're right there." Que said and patted me on the back. "One of life's little ironies. Is that the right word? Never mind. The Borg are thoroughly nasty but more like your Genestealers in nature. Just read the book and try to help your noble cousins." the daemon finished cryptically and vanished.

Everyone was looking at me. I tried my best, 'no I don't know that guy' look.

"Just what the devil are Genestealers?" said Picard.

* * *

One of the features of being Hero of the Imperium is that you're privy to information not normally available to the common masses. This is because I've faced, fought or more often ran away from pretty much everything my galaxy has to offer. A side effect of this is that people expect you to pass on that wisdom when needed. As a result I can give a good briefing on most of the horrors I've course the usual range of questions centres around 'how do you kill them'. This is because normally the only people in the audience not wearing Guard greens are wearing power armour. However inside every Federation spacer is a cogboy waiting with a thousand questions. I'm used to grim determination and an amount of girding of loins not;

"How do they organise their society?"

"How is the patriarch chosen?"

"Is the control psionic in nature?"

"Do genestealers prefer those with high psi ratings?"

And more. Then more. And then Picard piped through vox the questions the actual Science Department had. It is only a mercy I guess that ninety percent of the Enterprises science section were back at Starbase 10 probing any unfortunate to get in range. Eventually however the barrage stopped.

"Tell me Mr Cain. Is there anything nice or pleasant in your galaxy?" said Picard.

"Well, the Squats were a nice bunch. But they all got eaten when the Tyranids turned up." I said.

"And Alexander wept." said Picard.

"Who?" I said.

"Never mind, just a saying from ancient history." said Picard, "How does all this relate to our current situation?"

"If I may Captain. I believe both these 'Genestealers' of Cain's and these Borg are both hiveminds who recruit individuals from outside." said Data.

"Recruit? Were you listening to that horror story?" said Geordi.

"I believe so. Genestealers are an insectile species led by a psionic hivemind. They can tear apart spaceship hulls like tissue paper and they use an ovipositor to implant an organ which recruits the victim into the hivemind..." said Data.

"Recruit is not the correct word." said Geordi.

"Oh, anyway the Borg are probably similar. When they need organic components they, kidnap? They kidnap people for the parts they need." said Data. An ensign left the bridge in a hurry clutching his mouth.

"Yes, very good Data." said Picard. "What are the Borg doing now?"

"They have paused at a local debris field. They are mining the asteroids." said Data who than began a listing of the elements.

"Perhaps they were hurt worse than we thought." said Riker.

A tingling of my palms caused me to suspect otherwise. Always suspect the worst.

"I don't think so. Could they be making another ship?" I said.

"Come now Cain. That is a spaceship, it's not about to undergo mitosis." said Picard.

Whatever the word meant I loosened my chainsword and Worf did likewise. I thumbed the activation switch and set it to neutral. It's growl was reassuring.

"Oh come now. Turn those things off. What good are they going to do at this range?" said Picard.

As if in answer there was a sickly green flash, the sort of which I have experienced before. My chainsword was out and on as the creature appeared. It was humanoid in size and form and my first impression was that of a mid ranked cogboy, half human, half augments. It fell to the floor, parts whirring as I cut it's head off.

"I'ld prefer to keep it on." I replied as there was another flash and three more appeared. There are times for tact and diplomacy and then there are days like this. I charged.

The bridge rapidly dissoved into mayhem as more Borg teleported onto the bridge and attemted to probe something. Usually this was a teminal or an expired Borg or part therof who for some reason hadn't teleported back. Occasionally it was a fallen crewman or worse, a live one. It is moments like this where a chainsword is invaluable in establishing your personal space. A lasgun or bolter may dispatch enemies at greater range but nothing says 'back the frak off' like a metre of screaming, spinning blades.

Federation humanity, for all it protests to the contrary appeared rather good at war. The crew rapidly armed themselves with energy weapons concealed about the bridge and Worf, of course was armed for Ambul. They fought with discipline and courage worthy of any regular Guard regiment. It is therefore a pity that the Borg seem singularly designed to be their nemesis. Within seconds of energy fire dispatching some Borg, the next wave appeared equipped with energy shields capable of blocking the crew's fire. Now a federation 'phaser' is some sort of multifunction tool as well as a weapon but the Borg quickly upgraded their shields as the crew set their weapons to subsequently fry, disrupt, slice, plasma or dice their opponents to death. Quickly it became down to Worf and myself and the enemy was quickly becoming adept at fighting hand to hand. Soon we would be overwhelmed.

"Any bright ideas would be welcome right about now." I said bisecting a Borg who had yet to master the esoteric dueling forms I was now relying on.

"We need to get out of range." said Picard.

For that we needed the helm controls. Worf and I pushed our way to the terminals and Data took time from tearing off a Borg head to set the ship's course. As the ship turned and we fled Geordi fired several torpedoes behind us in an effort to 'cloud' our departure. Maybe, I just dont speak that rarefied dilect of cogboy the Federation indulges in. In any event, by some miracle we escaped. The Borg stopped appearing and then it was a matter of seeing to the fallen and assessing the damage.

The entire ship had suffered. There were dead and injured crew everywhere along with Borg bodies or limbs, some still stuck into exposed wiring. Engineering was a total no go zone, we learned later that Lieutenant Hidoshi had flooded engineering with superheated gas normally contained in the reactor after ordering everyone else teleported out. It had certainly stopped the Borg. And there was even worse news which Data reported at the meeting Picard called soon after.

"What did you say?" said Riker.

"Several memory and data cores are missing." said Data calmly. "It could be that were all destroyed during the fighting but that seems very unlikely. More possiable is that the Borg transported back to their ship with them."

"Which means?" began Picard.

"It means the Borg are coming for you, Mon Capitan. They have had a taste and now will be preparing for a four course meal." said Que. He was dressed in an odd uniform, all in Khaki with leather straps. It resembled the Guard uniforms of Albion IV, before Hive Fleet Kraken and all that.

"Que! What is the nature of these, these things you have set on us." said Picard.

"I did not set them upon you. In fact I recall admonishing you not to go. That you were not ready and that what was out there would kick your sorry asses." said Que.

"Why are you dressed like someone from Albion IV?" I asked since the rest looked a little abashed.

"Albion IV, ooh tragic. That's so weird. They really dressed like this." said Q. I nodded and the daemon continued. "One of life's little amazing things, well I find it amazing. How's the book?"

"I really havn't had time to read it." I said.

"It seems I just can't help anybody these days. Well, I'll be off then." said Que. Who then vanished.

"Well now that he's gone prehaps we can skip to the last chapter where the invaders die of some nasty disease." I said.

"I thought you said you hadn't read, oh. Right. I see." said Data.

"What sort of disease do you have in mind? Somehow I doubt the common cold is going to work." said Riker.

"I don't know. What particuarly nasty diseases or contagions exist here?" I said.


	4. Chapter 4

As the ship limped back to Federation territory a certain kind of mood began to settle on the crew, one I was very familiar with. These people had believed they were best, brightest and toughest in their corner of the galaxy. Now, they had met something that didn't care about that and had casually demonstrated otherwise. It happens to Guard units often since during training we never say things like 'Well actually, everything else out there is better armed, better equipped and has horrifying mind powers to boot.' so it often comes as a shock. Which is where yours truly comes in.

The Federation at least understood Rule 1 of what to do with demoralised troops which was 'keep them busy and too occupied to dwell on what a pasting they just recieved'. Actually they seem to have their own set of rules. Nowhere in Federation regs does it reccomend decimation or the mass execution of a unit and simply starting again for example. For my part in all this I started a 'Chainswords for begginners class' since there was considerable interest and it kept people busy.

Preparations for facing the Borg also went apace as news of the threat was delivered. Ships were called off whatever esoteric mission they were on and rapidly assigned to fleets. Various allied worlds also volunteered ships since no-one wanted their planet turned into an oversized quarry. The Klingons in particular were especially keen and all too ready to provide fighting ships in anticipation of the coming battle. They were so enthusiastic that four days after leaving Simia Orichalcae we had aquired an honour guard of a Klingon Battlegroup.

"Your ship has been in a mighty battle against formidable adversaries. It would be remiss of us to not escort you back to your Starbase." said Admiral Gazon.

Like Worf he was a monster, very ork like in appearnace and guesture until he spoke. Unlike Worf this Klingon seemed to have a love of words and their use. Their uniforms were reminiscent of some form of ancient armour inset with bright colours and then decorated further with medals and other baubles of alien design. They seemed to stand out compared to the severe austerity of the Federation. We met with Gazon and his captains in one of the less damaged meeting rooms. It was like a meeting between two different parts of the Imperium, While technically friends everyone is aware of the 'technically' part.

"I am curious as to how you came to be here?" said Picard as the meeting began to close.

"An elegant tale Captain. My sire's holdings are on the border of the Empire, quite close to here and we had detected increased Romulan drive signatures in the area. My fleet was assembled to 'remind' the Romulans not to stray to close. One of our pickets, the N'Kree observed the battle and your departure. And now we are here." said Gazon.

"We are most welcome for your assistance." said Picard.

The meeting continued in much the same vein with many platitudes and how jolly good it was to have allies in times like this. Eventually it all wrapped up, for everyone else at least.

"I would like to see a demonstration of these new weapons of yours captain." said Gazon

"No problem, Mr Worf and Mr Cain can show you."  
said Picard. The Klingons left.

"Try and find out what else they know Mr Worf." said Picard as we began to leave.

"You don't believe them? I assure you Captain that Admiral Gazon is a very honourable klingon." said Worf.

"I'm sure he is Worf. But just see if he knows anything else." said Picard.

"Yes. Captain." said Worf. We then left.

Worf cautioned me before we entered the holodeck.

"Be careful, these are klingons, do not offend them." said Worf.

"I'll keep that in mind." I said as we entered.

Inside were the Admiral and several other Klingons. Several of the others were dressed less garishly than their leaders. Gazon guestured to one of them.

"This is Major Jath, commander of my space marines."

I did a double take at that. While Jath was certainly an imposing brute he was nowhere near the scale of even a diminutive Astartes. I was to learn later what the word 'marine' actually entailed. Fortunately the Klingons took my confused look as one of awed respect. Jath nodded to me and bowed towards Worf.

"The weapon." Jath said with a Worf-like loquaciousness.

Worf gave the room a few commands and several chainswords appeared. Jath took one and then ran it through several of the holodecks exercises with the other warriors. They hacked, chopped and eviserated virtual opponents for about half an hour before pausing to report.

"Impressive. Brutal. Deadly. Most useful against those prone to fear like the Fe..., er the Ferengi, my Lord." said Jath. He shifted a bit.

"Anything else Major, I can see they are a very visceral weapon. However I also note you have some reservations. Please, speak freely." said Gazon.

"It has good shock value, but a simple monoblade will achieve as much. These weapons would need extra care, will require extra training and..." Jath paused again but Gazon waved him on. "I doubt the nobility will exchange the Bat'leth for one. Except as novelty." Jath said, looking at Worf.  
"Still, it would be prudent to keep some on hand. 'Iq nuH laH not Daghaj." Jath finished, somewhat exhausted.

"Well, Worf it looks like you must content yourself with the honour of bringing the Klingon Empire a new enemy. And a formidable one at that." said Gazon. He then turned to me. "And you, how do you find our universe? From what I hear you would be more at home with us than the Federation eh?" the alien winked.

Again with the xenos being more human than the humans! Blasted place.

"I would not say no to a visit. Perhaps the next meeting could be dinner aboard your vessel." I said.

"Vaj jatlh! And very brave for a human, I accept. And you may bring your Federation companions too. Worf, you of course, are invited as well." said Gazon.

Gazon gave us both a brief bow and then he and his entourage left.

"You are indeed brave to dine with Klingons." said Worf who clapped me on the back, nearly winding me.

I wondered what I had gotten myself into.

* * *

I have dined with admirals and generals, I have had dinner with various inquisitors, some insane, some, not, I have almost been dinner for the elder and orks. I have complemented both neobarbs on their recent mastery of things like 'fire' and hivers on their ability to make 'resyc' palatable. Diplomacy at dinner is primarily the ability to get down anything presented to you that the auspex says is safe.

Dinner with Klingons is mild by comparison, and kind of fun, it being a 'live food' event. It reminded me more of inter-regimental dinners and so it was jarring to constantly realise that Kasteen and Broklaw were not here although it was a relief to know that Sula couldn't make matters worse. There was some sort of play, which consisted of shouting, daggers, shouting, witches, shouting, treachery and of course, more shouting.

Klingon dinner-wear is gaudy, colourful and sharp. It is considered impolite not to bring your best personal weapon with you. My chainsword was passed around for inspection and tested on various objects, tables, chairs, a statue and one unfortunate neighbor's leg. After the poor xeno was teleported to the medicae my weapon was handed back, carefully.

"Do not worry, no dinner is truly complete without a major injury." said Worf. I nodded in what I hoped was a sage manner while the Federation officers tried not to look too horrified.

"What was the play we saw." I said changing the subject.

"Ah, that was Mak'Bet a most fortuitous play. It is said that whenever the play is performed something dreadful will happen. The trick is, of course to make it happen to one's enemies. And speaking of enemies, what cunning plan do you have for our new foes, eh Captain." said Gazon.

"I have some ideas with which to propose to the admiralty, but I feel with the state the ship is in, my involvement will be merely advisory." said Picard.

"What! The Enterprise and it's Captain have been in every major battle the Federation has taken part in. It would be bad luck not to be there. It was said that you could not win if the Enterpise was present. But that was when we were enemies. Now we are friends. I am sure the Klingon Empire will require your presence at the battle." said Gazon.

"Our ship has suffered extensive damage.." began Picard.

"All superficial, or so our scans say. The Enterprise is unbowed and unbroken, it is still a formidable ship." said Gazon.

"Well, maybe we will be back to meet these Borg." said Picard.

The rest of the dinner wound up fairly uneventfully and we returned to the Enterprise.

* * *

The next day when I came to the bridge saw Picard talking with a woman on the main screen. She was a medical officer and seemed displeased at whatever it was Picard had just said.

"No, no, a thousand times no Captain." she said.

"Beverley, I must insist, these Borg..." said Picard.

"Are our enemies and a serious threat, I understand, Jean Luc. I've seen the recordings. But they are still thinking, reasoning beings. Biological warfare is against everything we stand for and I'm astonished I find myself reminding you of that. I will not authorise release of the Happiness Plague or any other contagion for that matter. Crusher out." she said and her imgae disappeared returning to a starfield streaking past.

"Well that could of gone better." said Picard. He turned to me. "Mr Cain. What would your Imperium do with a recalcitrant Medical Officer?"

"Well, there's shooting her and asking the next most senior officer the same question. But I prefer to think of something before it comes to that. Good medics are hard to come by." I said.

"And Beverley is one of the best. Dammit, she's right. Biological warfare is an obscenity, once we start making excuses for it, no matter how well intentioned we've opened the gates. The next enemy we excuse it for won't be as bad. And then there's the next time." said Picard.

"I have another communication from Starbase 10. It's the boy." said Worf.

"Put him on then." said Picard. The screen changed to reveal a young man. Back home he could be finishing basic training or getting his first commission in the Guard. Here, he was still a child.

"What do want Wesley?" said Picard. The young man recoiled.

"Uhh Captain, I saw the recordings of the Borg and wondered if the Bynars would be of any help." said Wesley.

"They may well be Wesley, but their homeworld is on the other side of the Federation." said Picard.

"There are some here, Captain. They are upgrading Starfleet computers." said Wesley. "I could talk to them if you want."

"Yes, do that. And tell them I want to see them when we reach the Starbase." said Picard.

* * *

A few more days saw us arrive at Starbase 10 and reunite with the rest of the Enterprise. We were almost instantly overwhelmed by inquisitive scientists and engineers of every description imaginable. There were also reunions between families and loved ones and then the inevitable services for the fallen. I hadn't known what to expect of this bizarre, free society (every crew member was a vollunteer) but the grieving process and ceremonies were brief and quiet affairs with a stoicism I've seen only amongst Cadians and Kreigsmen. Death was an acceptable risk to a Federation citizen who joined Starfleet. And if you wern't happy about that, well, there were literally a hundred other applicants who were.

Since there was nothing for me to do I took to exploring the greater environs that the Starbase offered. I half suspected Picard to assign a flunky to keep an eye on me but apparently they don't do that here either. Or he could of just been too stretched for flunkies. He did ask that I leave my new chainsword in my quarters. I decided to take it with me anyways and since I had aquired some status with ship security they didn't seem to mind when I took it with me out the airlock and onto the Starbase.

A Federation Starbase is a very different creature than their Starships. It is the focal point for all traffic in that area of the Federation. In addition to the Starfleet ships there are all manner or civilian ships, be they researchers, colonists, journalists, archeologists, diplomats and scientists. Alien ships were also present bringing with them traders although how they traded with people for whom 'money' was a thing from history books was a bit of a mystery. I guess they sold things to each other.

It was returning to the Enterprise one day that I ran into the Bynars and Wesley. Like ninety percent of the so-called xenos in the Federation they were a variation of humans. Purple skin, short stature and cybernetic implants do not an alien make. Another strangeness, the open and accepting Federation made a big thing of the slightest differences and while a proper Imperial subject is taught to hate the alien, our definition of 'human' so much more encompassing. One of life's little things.

My first shock was that the little men spoke the Mechaniacus secret language! I don't understand it but I'ld know that twittering anywhere. Were these some degenerate survivors of some cogboy experiment gone wrong?  
Did I now have a chance of getting home that didn't rely on the whims of the Daemon Que?

And then there was my second shock, did I really want to go home? Despite the current crisis the Federation was simply the nicest place immaginable. Nobody got shot here for 'dereliction of duty', And no-one cared if you didn't want to be part of the military, mainly because they claimed they did not have one. I could, for instance move to some hospitable planet and run a bar or brothel and no-one would come after me unless they wanted what I had on offer. I later discovered that the Federation does not have prostitutes as such. There are people called Licensed Practical Sexuality Therapists and apparently they fill the same niche. There's a four year university course with postgraduate options. After learning that, I pretty much settled on the bar. Although I cant say the courses didn't tempt me.

After all, what did my home universe have to offer me? A messy and bloody death at the hands of one of the numerous horrors that pressed mankind on every side? A summary execution when the Imperium finally caught on as to who the real me was? To have my soul and very being enslaved to some malevolent overmind or daemon? Put that way the attractions it did offer seemed very poor indeed.

With all this going through my head I really wasn't paying attention to their plan.

* * *

"We need to do what?" I said. Despite my meanderings my ears had picked up the tell-tale signs of something brave, foolhardy and potentially suicidal being planned.

"All we need to do is get this processor block to a major Borg computing node and then it will shut them down." said Wesley. The Bynars around him chittered in agreement.

I was hardly surprised. Deliver the device into the heart of the enemy stronghold, past the teeth of their defences and usually into the lap of the head master nasty. Tyranids, Orks, Eldar, Necrons, it really doesn't matter the plan is always the same. I've often wondered why the people who come up with this plan are considered clever at all. I mean it's always the same.

"How do you plan to do that?" I said, as if I didn't have a fair idea already.

Wesley than went into his details of a Trojan Horse escapade. "We pack a shuttle with odd tech bits and the processor block and send it at the Borg. They pick up the shuttle and the crew sneak on board, find the computing node and then activate it. It can't fail."

"Just like in 'Attack Run'." At the blank stares I elaborated. "It's a holo-drama. How about we see how this plan of yours goes down with the captain."

Like almost every member of Starfleet Wesley seemed genuinely interested in who I was and where I came from. I answered or more precisely vaguely evaded most of his questions. The idea that certain things should be kept secret was an almost foriegn notion. Such as the next question.

"And how do you feel about the terminator genes?" he asked as innocently as he had about where I'ld been born, my favourite food and whether I had really shot fellow soldiers.

"I'm sure they suit those brave fellows just fine." I said.

"No, the terminators in you. Mom mentioned them." Wesley said.

"The what?"I had a vision of tiny Astartes in their heaviest armour prowling through my blood vessels like I was some giant bioship. I tried not to squirm.

Wesley attempted to explain. Genes are bits of your essence that make you, you. And Genestealers dont steal genes but add new ones that tell you to obey the hive or whatever. And terminator genes? They do what it says on the tin. They kill you. Well they sort of stop you from trying to stay alive but it's pretty much the same thing. Wesley tried to provide some good news.

"But they can be turned off if you take a supplement, and since that's just a glycoprotien it's no trouble to replicate. You could live to be five hundred, or a thousand. But I don't see why the gene is there in the first place." he said.

"How long?" I said.

"Oh, easily a thousand years. Of course that doesn't stop you being killed by all the things that seem to exist in your universe. Are there really giant living ships the size of cities?" said Wesley.

"Well, yes, but they are trying to kill you too." I said.

"Oh." said Wesley.

My natural lifespan was a thousand years. My deliberations on this were interupted because we had reached the Bridge. I scooted over to the security section and Wesley and the Bynars eaded for a computer terminal and began doing things to it. The crews attention was however on the picture of a senior Starfleet type laying down the law.

"for the Raman and Lexington to reach the Starbase and then proceed to Simia. Picard, you and the Enterprise are to coordinate and liase with our Klingon allies. We will then proceed to Simia and contain this new threat. Hoskins out." the figure said and then the screen returned to a picture of what was outside.

Picards expression was particuarly grim. "What do you think number one." he said.

"Well, if we're to believe Que a whole lot of of beings are going to die and we could lose our entire fleet." said Riker.

"Hmm, true." said Picard. "Well, ideas anybody." he said looking arround the room.

"I have an idea." said Wesley. For some reason most of the bridge crew groaned. This did not deter the young man and he again outlined his 'plan'.

"Well, that might work." said Picard "But our orders are to stay with the Klingons. How are we going to convince the Klingons to get to the battle site early?"

There was a brief pause and then the entire bridge burst into laughter. After he recovered Picard ordered the Enterprise to leave the Starbase and join the Klingon battlegroup.


	5. Chapter 5

To call the Klingon response 'enthusiastic' would be a terrible insult to the word. They invited us all to another feast and yet another play, involving shouting and yelling but less stabbing. It was called 'The Subduing of the Targ'.

"What does the author of the Picard Manouvere have in store for our enemies, hmm." said Gazon.

"Well we have some ideas, but tell me Gazon was that play really saying what I think it was." Picard said.

"Hmm, a problem with your marvellous universal translator? Perhaps Lukth can help explain." said Gazon. He called over a female klingon who had played a prominent role in all the shouting. "This is Tactical Officer Lukth, she just played Katnrun and an excellent performance too, I must add."

Lukth bowed. "Admiral, Captain Picard, Worf, son of Mogh and Right Thinking Deathbringer, how may I assist." she said.

"Right Thinking Deathbringer?" I said.

"Is that not your title and name?" said Lukth.

I remembered that these xenos were not speaking, well whatever the hell it was I was speaking, but translating using a machine. It had translated my name from Federation to Klingon and then they had replied to that translation and then it was translated again. I guessed where the first part came from but 'Deathbringer'? I had barely arrived and already I had a fraudulant reputation to live up to. Blast.

"I guess so." I replied.

"Well then." Lukth said.

There was a brief pause until Worf spoke. "Could you explain some of subtleties of this play." he said.

"Simple. That night Katnran slits her p'targ husband's throat. Patruck is a fool to think he has subdued Katnrun so easily." Lukth said.

"I always thought she would use poison next breakfast." said Gazon.

There was another pause.

"Please Tactical Officer, we are discussing a play and culture, not war and strategy. Speak freely."

"I do not agree. A poisoning would show some respect. Katnrun has none for Patruck. Slit throat." Lukth said.

"So, the play is not a true representation of Klingon relationships." I said.

The Klingons howled in amusement. Conversation elsewhere stopped, briefly picked up again and then was replaced by more howling. It continued for some time. The laughter rippled about the dining room several times before finally petering out.

"You are very amusing, Deathbringer. A true Klingon relationship is a constant struggle for dominance. It is never over." Lukth said.

She then sat down, drew a knife and lunged for one of the more edible creatures on my plate. My reflexes regarding knives, xenos and their close proximity to yours truly cut in and I parried her thrust with my own eating knife. Her blow was deflected and struck the plate, shattering it and sending dinner fleeing in all directions. I transferred my knife and was making for a disarm when she caught my new knife hand with her other hand. My free hand gripped hers in a brief stalemate. Lukth howled and this time I didn't think she was laughing. I decided to drop my knife.

"You could of asked?" I said. Lukth released her grip.

Lukth looked at the Admiral, who nodded. "Can. I . Please. Have . One. Of. Your. Smeeps." she said, obviously reciting a learned phrase.

I found one of repulsive critters, retreived my knife and speared it.

"Want to arm wrestle for it?" I said.

"Sure." Lukth said. We cleared a space and then she damn near tore my arm off. Lukth left chewing on the morsel as I tried to get some life back into my arm.

"That was very good. Very good. Tell me, are you a diplomat in your own universe?" said Gazon.

"Just a simple soldier." I said, wincing as feeling came back to my fingers.

"Hmm. Well that is good. And Lukth likes you too. Which is good, it's been too long since last time." Gazon said.

"Last time?" I asked, I could sense the direction this conversation was going. "I am human you know."

"Curable, entirely curable. And don't worry, I doubt Lukth will decapitate you."

"Decapitate?" I said.

"Well Drogo was always a bit slow, but it's all worked out fine, so no loss." said Gazon.

"About our plan." I said and reached for what I could only hope was wine.

I outlined the plan and not for the first time it struck me how bloody dangerous it was. But it was a far off bloody danger as opposed to the one across the room casting me the occasional predatory look. I was also getting other glances from the other 'women' as well.

"Hmm, good plan. It will be made easier with cloaking devices." said Gazon.

"The Treaty of Algeron forbids..." said Picard.

"Applies to Federation using cloaking devices. But this is a Klingon Battlegroup, is it not? We will use Klingon shuttles, with klingon warriors to defeat our foes. With some Federation purely as 'observers' and 'advisors'. Picard, I will need a liason directly on my ship for close coordination with my tactical officer. I request and require Mr Cain here."

"I have no problem with that." said Picard.

Well that was perfect for everybody. Picard was rid of me from his ship, Gazon had me on his to try and kill in a thousand inventive ways. Best of all, I was to confer with a woman whose cultural programming was likely to kill me, one way or another. I smiled weakly.

"I'll be glad to volunteer." I said.

* * *

The command room of Gazon's flagship was dominated by a large holo tank that currently displayed the Simia system. Like the rest of the ship it was lit with a red tint imitating the light of the Klingon's home world. It gave the impression of being poorly lit which reminded me of your average Imperial ship. The holo tank was surprisingly functional, quiet and didn't seem to require the attendant kicks and thumping a device from home would.

I had been aboard for about a week now. Unlike the Federation, where every member is a secret cogboy, every Klingon is a practitioner of some obscure martial art or baroque weapon. They also all wanted to see how the chainsword measured up to their preferred method of personal mayhem. Major Jath, despite his public reservations had a squad practicing with chainswords and 'appreciated my input'. Lastly Lukth had adopted an evisirator scale model and insisted on regular bouts in the 'interests of Klingon/Federation relations'. I was tired, bruised and really identifying with those commissars who end up overseeing Ogryns.

Gazon was conferring with his captains about various points of approach to their quarry. There was talk of 'mass shadows', 'plasma storms', 'solar flares' and other phenomena which would allow their ships to approach. Currently Jath and Lukth were arguing. Jath wanted to use the cover of a local comet while Lukth preferred approaching from behind a planet and then relying on their cloaking devices for the rest of the approach.

"What is your opinion Cain?" asked Gazon.

"I am really just a soldier. But I've often found that striking before the enemy has had time to complete their plans is best." I said. Lukth folded her arms and gave Jath a cross species 'told you so' look.

Gazon looked at me and nodded. "Yes, the large hydrogen planet's mass and radiation will aid in concealing our ships. From there we shall launch our shuttles, which will approach the rest of the way under cloak. Once aboard our mission is two-fold. We will escort the Bynars to their targets while the other squads seek out targets of opportunity. No matter how 'distributed' their systems, a shield generator is still a shield generator and a weapon still a weapon. Once sufficiently disabled our main force can move in to capture the cube, retrieve our marines and take captives.".

Gazon began assigning areas and zones to various commanders and their sqauds.

"Your main target is going to be in this central area." I said and highlighted a zone in the centre. "Distributed or not this is where their main command will be."

"You sure?" said Gazon. I suddenly realised I had no idea. These Borg were aliens, they might do anything. But I had fought on numerous different xeno ships, well, fled at top speed through them would be more precise. That area was always significant. I nodded. "Excellent, I'll assign your squad directly to that area." said Gazon.

Oh joy. I should of kept my big mouth shut. Gazon then detailed more specific orders to the various officers who departed. Eventually only Lukth and I were left. I made the appropriate noises one makes to an admiral and left as well. I crept back to my guest quarters trying not to be noticed by an enthusiastic challenger. On reflection that was the wrong move. Lukth had followed me and, well locks are for other people I guess.

"Do you have any loyalty to the Federation?" she asked as she slipped inside.

"I what?" I said.

"The Federation, Deathbringer. You who are from the year 40,000 and another universe entirely. Why side with them?"

"Well, they are human?" I said, I hadn't really thought about it."In all honesty I have just being trying to survive."

"To you, the Federation humans are products of parallel evolution. Similar in form and function but as, 'xeno' as us Klingons." she said.

That hadn't been a translation but an actual piece of Gothic!

"You look surprised." she said sidling up to me. "All across the quadrant everyone sees us as the poor dumb Klingons besides the all so clever Federation. Those fools forget that Klingons were in space before Humans, Andorians and even the Vulcans. We have found strange things too. Your universe for example. Hints, rumours and wonders beyond description." Lukth said.

I found myself backing up until I was stopped by a wall. Lukth followed.

"But never someone alive. Someone to help us sort myth from reality. I've been watching you Cain. You're like us and not poor emotionally repressed humanity. You like it here. You like us. You like me."

It goes beyond saying that my options were limited. Struggling would be misinterpreted by this hyper-aggressive xeno. I tried to summon up the response any proper Imperial subject would have at her proposal. Unfortunately, I am not a proper Imperial subject. My look of abject horror must of been unconvincing.

"Try not to look so worried. We're all inter-related, all the major races of the Alpha Quadrant are. No one admits to it, but the truth is only Earth has evidence of ancestors going back before one hundred thousand years ago. And whoever did it made sure there was enough gene-flow to keep us all compatible. Plus, if the Enterprise's clever doctor is correct your genes have some remarkable, surprises. So why not help us Cain, help us restore the Empire to it's former glory. You will not find us, ungrateful." she said.

"Can I think about all this?" I said. Was any of what she said true? It was just too strange to be a standard pick up line, whatever species she was.

"Sure. But just remember, we're asking nicely. Others wont. Did the Federation even ask at all?" Lukth said and left me alone.

Trapped on an alien ship, about to charge head-first into the heart of some very nasty aliens and being stalked by an alien woman, who if I understood things correctly was literally after my body. Some things never change.

* * *

Things to not do today.

1) Do not get into any confined space with angry homicidal xenos.  
2) Do not participate in any suicidal, hopeless last chances.  
3) Do not board any xeno vessels that remind you of the necron.  
4) Do not attempt any pointless heroics while on said vessel  
5) Do not impress any hyper-agressive xeno women with said heroics.

So, given I was on a Klingon shuttlecraft packed full with excitable klingon marines armed with chainswords and disruptor pistols, including Tactical Officer Lukth I was not starting the day well. That we were now approaching the Borg ship, an immense cube two miles on each side that glowed and pulsated with sickly green emanations only made it worse.

The Emperor alone knows why we were ignored by the behemoth. The Klingons claimed it was their cloaking devices, the Federation pointed out it was the technosorcery weilded by their archmagos' in all but name Geordi and Data, who had done something particuarly arcane to hide us. Some believe that we just didn't register as a threat. Myself, I figure it was the presence of the near completed second cube. If the Borg were anything like the Necrons then they could be rather single minded when it came to performing tasks. They were building a second ship and until that was done minor annoyances like Klingon Marines, Bynars, Lukth and myself could wait.

There were sixteen shuttles in the assault. I am assured that the small craft can move at an impressive clip and that may be true but there was a long bit in the middle where the giant planet the cruisers were hiding behind was just a bright dot and our target wasn't even visible. For all their typical exuberence the klingon marines were very quiet, somehow they were crouching in their seats, ready to spring on any foe dim enough to walk in through the main door. It is times like this where the mind tries to second guess the actions that led to the body dragging it to where it is at the moment, appreciating some dreadful impending doom. What could I of done different, or said otherwise that would have had me in a more salubrious and less life threatening situation?

"Row, row, row your boat gently down the stream." said the Klingon on my left, he turned to look at me. Of course, what better then wrestling with self doubt is a verbal sparring match with an annoying daemon? "Merrily, merrily, merrily, life is but a dream." Que sang. He looked about. "Oh, a Klingon war party, that that explains why they arn't joining in." He looked back. "And this is a bit unexpected for you, what would they say about this back home?"

"They won't say anything because I'ld never tell anyone anything about this, if I ever get back." I hissed.

"Oh pity. I'm sure they'd be very interested and want to put you to lots of questions. But anyways. Look at this. Klingons and Bynars working together to save the Federation from the Borg. I am..." Que paused and rubbed his temples. "Oww, that hurts. Oh, it's the Enterprise, I'ld recognise that subspace harmonic anywhere. Don't tell Picard but it gives me one hell of a headache. Well, well, well. Everybody cooperating, exploring new limits of their potential and overcoming obstacles. I'm impressed. I'm so impressed that I'm almost tempted to let you succeed and survive all this." Que paused. "But that would be against the rules. And I can't break those. Oh no. Row, row, row your boat." Que resumed singing his annoying melody.

I wondered how things could get any worse. A few seconds later there was a light tap, the shuttles engines stopped and the doors opened. We disembarked into a mechanical warren lit by a ghastly green light. The structure was diffuse and we could peer through walls at other rooms and corridors. We could also see indistinct figures moving in the gloom. It was worse.

* * *

There are many similarities between the Necron and the Borg. Both employ a green illumination best described as 'ghastly' although I'm sure someone like Mott or Data would tell me they are totally different ghastly greens. Both have a thing for maze like tunnel systems and of course both get exceedingly grumpy should you be stupid enough to bother them.

Of course there are differences too. Necron prefer a mechanical skeleton motiff while they Borg prefer the 'low ranking cogboy' fashion. Necron mazes are quite solid affairs while a wall on a Borg ship is merely where the machinery is more densley packed than elsewhere. So you can often look 'through' a wall or two and see whats beyond, not that it'll ever be a pleasant sight.

We crept through the mechanical warren guided mainly by the Bynar. He was armed with what I can only call a 'probe'. It would use this quite often, poking it into various bits of Borg machinery and then indicating which twisting cluttered path to take next. I only wish the small creature had found us an elevator. It would of sped things up much faster.

We eventually fetched up in a large chamber lined with Borg who appeared emplaced directly in the wall's structures. The Bynar indicated we were in the right place.

"This doesn't look like a central control room." said Lukth.

"Where are all the controls?" said a Marine.

I was wondering that too when it hit me. Machine races are their own controls. They don't need a terminal as all they have to do is plug into the nearest wall.

"They are." I said, indicating the encased Borg.

"Well then." said Lukth. "We shall begin. Ally Bynar."

The Bynar pulled out a small mechanical cube and approached a Borg, no different from any other as I could tell. It then affixed the cube to it's probe and plunged the device into the Borg's stomach.

After which things started going badly. For a start, the light went out. Then the marines got their luminators on and then other lights switched on. It took a while to realise these were from the Borg who were animating and pulling themselves out of the walls. Which is all the klingons and myself needed. We attacked.

"I thought that damn device would shut them down." I said as I lopped off a Borg's arms.

"Mr Crusher's intereference device has indeed blocked Borg communication with their ship." said the Bynar rather too calmly.

"But not the Borg themselves?" I said. A Borg tried to probe my arm but suddenly stopped and fell over. I then noticed the Bynar had probed my assailant in the upper leg.

"No. They have seperate autonomous processes." it said.

"Thanks what does that mean?" I said.

"It means no big convienient off switch Deathbringer. This isn't some holovid with easy outs." said Lukth. She fired a green blast from her disruptor and disintergrated a Borg. Her second shot was blocked by their shielding. Lukth cursed and readied two long knives.

Our marines were also doing well for themselves but Borg, like many nasties, are not deterred by casualties and more Borg were soon pouring in through the various entrances.

"Time to go then!" I said and made for an exit currently not filled with annoyed Borg. Everyone else followed.

The battle then raged through the ship as we tried to make our way back to the shuttles. Every so often an explosion would rock the ship as one of the other teams set off their charges. But that wasn't the worst bit. Every so often we would be forced to fight a reanimated Klingon and at one point a Borgified Bynar as they replaced their ranks with our fallen. But that wasn't the worst bit either. The worst bit was when I realised our foes were herding us away from our exit. All they had to do was scrag our Bynar, retreive the cube and work out how to counter it's effects. When I told the Klingons this Lukth pulled out a device and pressed a button.

"What was that?" I asked her.

"Subspace transmitter. It's a signal to our ships that while the Borg are disabled, we cannot make it out. They will warp in and saturate the area with proton torpedoes."

"But we will be killed." I said.

"Yes, that's the idea." Lukth said. "We will be remembered as heroes who gave their lives for the Empire." The remaining two marines nodded in agreement. Only the Bynar seemed as distressed as I was.

"I prefer to live. Is there any other way off this thing?" I said.

"I belive there is. Come this way. It is not far." said the Bynar.

"Well, everyone keen on heroic survival follow us." I said. We followed the Bynar.

* * *

Of my funerals that I've attended over the years, the one officiated by Captain Picard was one of the more boring. It was still quite touching all the same. He spoke at length about honour and duty. How I, a complete stranger to their very way of life nevertheless embodied the virtues Starfleet looks for in it's people. He was on the verge of granting me honourary citizenship and a posthumous rank when I decided to interupt him.

"Well, I'm honoured, but I must Imperium takes a dim view of it's officers serving in other militaries." I said.

For a brief moment Picard was at a loss for words. Various other members of his crew looked suitably amused and astonished at my refusal to die. He quickly recovered from the initial shock.

"How did you survive. Did Que..." Picard began.

"Que had nothing to do with it. Surviving deadly danger is something I'm good at." I said. "In this case we used a Borg small craft. The Bynar activated the ship and we got away before Gazon blew everything to dust."

I decided not mention how much of a close-run thing it had been. Gazon's battlegroup very nearly did succeed in frying us as well as the Borg. Also, I had to knock out Lukth to prevent her making a suicidal last stand. As a result she was refusing to speak to me. Which was the other bright spot in all this.

"Well, at least it's all over." said Picard. There was a flash.

"Au contraire Mon Capitan." said Que. "The Borg here might be destroyed but there are more where they came from. They will come looking for what happened to their ship in this part of the galaxy. This is only the beginning." There was another flash and the daemon vanished.

"And some things stay the same." finished Picard "Well, Mr Cain, since you've interuppted your own funeral, is there anything else I could offer to say thanks."

"Well, your records do speak of a planet called Risa." I said.

THE END

* * *

Epilogue

Deep below the surface of Simia III lie ancient caverns. The tunnels look as if they were formed of hewn obsidian. In truth, the material is actually much stronger. Strange symbols adorn the walls. Now and then there is a brief flash of green light and the sound of something skittering about. The tunnels lead to rooms. In one room stands a figure. It first appears gaunt and thin. Then the viewer, had they not yet been driven mad by the alien geometries would realise it was a metallic skeleton with glowing eyes. While it says nothing and makes no sound as it works the controls of an alien console it conveys a sense of great, disappointment.

The creatures it had finally found had seemed so promising and would of made such useful slaves. But something had happened. It had been thwarted.

The being did not like being thwarted. However, it was, if anything patient. Again doing very little and without sound it conveyed a sense of resignation. It could wait.

The Necron Lord returned to it's sarcophagus and resumed, waiting.


End file.
